Telling Them
by Maddymadmad29
Summary: Peeta and Katniss are living close to normal lives. But what will happen when there comes a time when they are forced to tell their children about their tragic pasts? Post-Mockingjay. Reviews are very much appreciated.
1. Prologue: My Life

Shadows flutter across the soft sand as I watch my children play wildly on the beach. The beautiful sunset behind them makes their figures look black as night, which it soon will be. For once on this serene vacation, they have finally settled their differences enough to play together along with the rolling waves. It's still a wonder to me how these siblings couldn't stand each other, whereas Prim and I longed for each others presences. As I turn look behind me, I see Peeta capturing this glorious moment with swift strokes of a brush. What was that thing that Peeta had said all those years back? Oh yes –

"_I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live in it forever." _

This is exactly how I feel at this very moment. Everything is peaceful, full of life, no more nightmares. But, sadly, this will cease when it comes time for my brain to shut down, letting twisted memories take hold of it. Peeta being by my side makes it a lot better, but far from gone. I can only hope that my children don't ever have to worry about this problem, but in this mixed up world, even with the Hunger Games gone, I still can't be sure.

My children are frolicking outside of their grandmother's house in a newly revised District Four. My family and I come down to see her every year in the summer, to make sure that she's doing alright. She usually is; she doesn't have to deal with blood-curdling nightmares every night. I have still never fully forgave her for abandoning me all those times; when my father died and after the war ended. But Peeta makes me go every year – she is my children's only living grandparent, after all. I have to admit, she is nice to talk to and she does provide me with comfort.

But there's another bright side to vacationing in District Four: Annie and her son, Finnick Junior. Nick, as we call him, has his father's perfect ocean colored eyes and and dark hair. He's an adult now, and is the spitting image of his father, though he does have some traits of Annie's. He's kind, loving, and is now the only one that can calm Annie down when she has one of her episodes. Ever since he was a baby, holding him in her arms was all she needed to control her illness. Whatever Finnick left for that child to take care of, he certainly did.

Vacationing is great, but life back at District Twelve is even better. I've taking up hunting as my full time job, supplying meat to just about everyone in the district. Peeta has rebuilt the bakery and is avidly running it, meanwhile teaching our little Blossom how to make the fine bread. She has natural talent waiting to be set aflame, and Peeta is kindling it. At night or on the weekends, he still likes to paint, making beautiful portraits of his children and me. When he paints, he hits every fine detail of their faces with such precision that makes me wonder if he doesn't stare at them all day. But hey – he is Peeta, and everything he does never ceases to amaze me.

As these thoughts run through my head, I quickly lose track of time and before I know it, my mother has dinner ready on the table. I instantly regret not to have offered to help her with it, but she would have declined my offer anyway. The food is good, but nothing compared to Peeta's. As I sit back and watch the sun fully go down, I realize what a good life I have, no matter how bad the nightmares are.

**If you like my writing, please check me out under the same username at fictionpress.**


	2. They're Coming Back

**Second chapter is here! Hope you guys like it. The first chapter was just to explain the setting, so it wasn't meant to be much. This chapter is the actual start of the story. It was also inspired by a review! They really help!**

_There he is. My sweet little nine-year-old boy Daniel smiling sweetly from behind an old evergreen. But wait – he isn't supposed to be here. This was a woods. But not my woods, a foreign one. An artificial one. This is a Hunger Games arena. _

_I hear the trackerjackers before I see them. Fear ripples through me as I realize how quickly they are approaching. I have to get him away as quickly as possible. What was that? I look down to see a red droplet appear on my arm. I suddenly feel buckets of blood pour down on me. I frantically search for my son but my vision is blurred and I can't find him. My heart doubles its speed as I call his name several times, without answer. _

_A warm hand grips my elbow, and another wipes the combination of blood and tears from my eyes. It's as I expected – Peeta. But what's in his hand makes my heart fall to my stomach. He is holding a spear, with my son's abdomen at it's tip. He sets it down only to pull out a knife. _

I wake up gasping for air, my entire body feeling as though I've ran a ten miles. My heart is racing, my skin is greased with sweat, and my knuckles are gripped to the bedpost as white as snow. I calm down some I when smell the overpowering sent of baking bread. I slowly open my eyes to find Peeta hovering over me, my hand in his. His eyebrows are knit in concern, no matter how much I tell him I'm alright. But he knows me better than that. He knows that I am miles and miles away from alright.

I try to prove it to him by attempting to get out of bed, but I fail to do so without his assistance. He leads me to the kitchen where my family awaits.

"Mom, what's wrong?" asked my concerned daughter.

"Nothing," I reply, sitting down at the table. "Just a bad dream, that's all."

My son looks at me from across the table skeptically, but then retreats to eating his pancakes. Like Peeta, my children are smart and aren't deceived easily by false claims. Either that, or I'm a terrible lair.

* * *

><p>That afternoon results in us going to a beautiful park quite a ways from home. Dan makes friends with a little boy who is also there, and Blossom swings while listening to her Capitol made music player that she got on her birthday. Peeta and I sit on the park bench, watching or two children play.<p>

"What was that this morning?" he asks timidly.

I know I can't tell him that it was nothing, he'll know better. I look deeply into his eyes for a second and say, "They're coming back. I don't know why, but there definitely coming back."

I don't have to explain to him what "they" are. He knows that "they" are the nightmares. He returns my gaze with equal passion, puts his arm around me, and pulls me closer. "Well, what's changed?"

"Nothing that I know of."

"Is something upsetting you?"

"No. I have perfect children, a perfect husband, and friends that love me. What could be upsetting?"

His eyes look away from mine and out onto the playground. I see the ponder in them, and I know that he's deeply thinking. His eyebrows squint, and he asks me a question without meeting my eyes.

"Something bugging you?"

Leave it to Peeta to know me better then I do myself. He can diagnose me with a problem before I even know there's one. "Yeah. I think that's it. But I can't exactly put my finger on it."

It's been about an hour since we arrived at the park, and Dan comes running up to us. Seeing that his friend has left, I know what he wants.

"Yes, we can go. Go get your sister," I tell him, before his mouth can form the words. He scurries off to go get Blossom, who's by the swings.

"I'll give you updates," I say to Peeta. "Maybe my dreams will bring an explanation."

"I hope so," he says as he gets up.

* * *

><p>When night arrives, I fear sleep. I sit up in bed, staring out into space. Peeta notices my hesitance and reassures me.<p>

"It'll be fine, Katniss," he says, rubbing my arm. "I'll wake you up if I notice anything. Go to sleep."

I know Peeta will, now that he's on the look-out. That makes me finally give in. I slip down underneath the covers, and rest my head on the pillow. I reluctantly close my eyes.

_I'm in a small closet in that smells strongly of cleaner, half dozing. Through the fogginess, I hear someone knock loudly on the door, begging me to open it. This jars me awake and I unlock the door, opening it up. There stands girl with jet black hair and dark eyes, looking at me sternly. _

"_You are suppose to be at Training," she says to me. Her voice is very familiar, but her looks aren't. _

_It takes me awhile before I realize where I am. I am at District Thirteen, hiding in small spaces again. _

"_Who are you?" I ask the girl. _

"_I am Prim," she replies, "you don't remember me! I'm your loving sister that you knew so well! I die and you can't even remember my face?" Anger is present in these words. As she says them, she morphs in to a blond-haired blue-eyed girl, her features muffled and unclear. "Katniss," she asks gently, "why don't you remember me?"_

"_Prim, I do. Prim, please believe me. You've got to believe me. . ."_

I'm awakened shaking and the call of my name. I look over to see Peeta looking at me with concern.

"You were calling to Prim. . . something about her?"

"Yes. Well, no," I reply. "Prim was in it, but not really her."

"What do you mean by that?" he inquires.

I tell him my dream as he squints his eyebrows.

"Tell me about the next one you have," says Peeta, lying back down. I can tell that he's really worried about me, and that my dream confused him even more.

I look at the dimly lit clock and see that it's about one o'clock in the morning. I don't want another nightmare, so I stay awake the rest of the night instead.


	3. Eavesdropping

_I'm up on a small stage, and the crowd around me expects me to sing. A spotlight is glued to me. It blurs out the crowd of people so I can't clearly see their faces. I feel like an avox unable to speak, much less sing. Where is my Peeta?_

_I take frequent gulps as the crowd around me starts to chant. But what surprises me is that they are not urging me to sing, but yelling death threats at me. _

_Kill her! Kill her!" they shout. _

_I look all around me, searching for a way out, as the stadium that I'm in starts to lighten up. I really wish it hadn't. I can now see that the crowd consist of former District Twelve citizens, all of which have been killed in the bombing. But that's not all. In the front row I see Finnick, Prim, Madge, Cato, Boggs, Mags, and all my the other people that have died because of specifically me. But there not like the usual people I know; they are all like Prim in my previous dream. Their faces are foggy and unclear, like I can see them, but not _see _them. Does that make any sense? _

_Hatred is filled in their feature-less eyes. It is they who shout the loudest and drown everything out. _

_I run all around the stage, looking for a solace to hind myself behind, but there is none. There is no curtain, or even a backstage. Just a platform. I feel my heart race and tears develop in my eyes. The crowd is now climbing onto the stage, suddenly having weapons in their hands. I plead for them to stop, but they don't. I hear someone calling my name, dragging me out of the dreadful world altogether. _

I wake up, my hands shaking. I notice that Peeta is now clutching onto to me, and I in return have a firm grip on his shirt. He seems to be just as terrified as I am, his eyes shut tightly and slightly wet. He calls out my name, his voice sounding hopeless and defeated.

"Peeta," I say to him, "I'm right here."

Peeta opens his eyes, and when he sees mine open, a smile forms on his lips.

"Katniss," he replies. "You're back."

"I was never gone." I'm slightly concerned now, wondering what could I have been doing during that nightmare that made him so afraid. I look out the open window to see that it's still dark outside. Today, or maybe tomorrow, will be the day that we head back to District Twelve, ending our vacation.

Peeta looks at me, anxiety in his eyes. He props himself up with his arm, wanting to discuss what just happened.

"I was really worried about you for a moment there. You didn't scream or anything like you normally do; you just lied there, perfectly still. I wouldn't of had know anything was wrong if I wasn't already awake. You started to whimper a little bit, and you squinted your eyes. You turned really white and began to sweat. I tried everything I could to wake you up, but nothing worked for about a half-hour. God, Katniss, I was freaking out!"

"I'm so sorry. The nightmare. . . it was just really bad."

Peeta pulls me from across the bed to against his chest. His arms entwine around me and his fingers run through my hair.

"Katniss," he whispers into my ear, "you know you have nothing to be sorry about. Now, tell me about that dream of yours."

I shut my eyes as I tell him, in detail, every aspect of my nightmare. From the many death threats to the foggy faces, he listens closely to every word I say. He nods his head to every other sentence, and when I finish, his features relax and he gives me a diagnosis of my problems.

"Katniss," he inquires, "do you ever feel as though your forgetting someone that you feel deserves to have your attention your every waking moment? Someone that perhaps. . . isn't here anymore?"

As I think of Prim, an instant guilt consumes my mind. I think of her sparkling personality, her intelligence, and of her innocence. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that my memory of her is not as sharp as it used to be. How could I, after all these years, not pay her well deserved respects by constantly remembering her? Am I that bad of a big sister and friend?

I can't help it, but tears start to form in my eyes. Peeta embraces me, gentle rubbing my back. He mumbles to me that everything will be alright, but I doubt it.

"I'm forgetting them, Peeta. I can't picture their faces with exact detail anymore. I can't clearly hear their voices. They've died, and I'm not even loyal enough to keep them in my mind."

"Don't say that. You know that you can't rely on a memory. You know what they were like, and how great they were."

With his words, I find the strength to sit up, and even get out of bed.

"I'm going to get a glass of water," I say.

As I open the door, something comes tumbling onto my feet. That thing is my daughter, Blossom, who was putting her ear up to our door.

"Blossom!" I whisper, "What are you doing!"

"Who don't you remember, mom? Who aren't you telling me about?"

I sigh and grab Blossom's arm, pulling her into our bedroom and quietly shutting the door. "What were you doing listening to our conversation?"

"I was already awake, and I heard a whimpering. I went to check what it was, but you guys seemed to be talking about something. I didn't think you'd find me. . ."

"Well, I did," I say exasperatedly.

"Mom, somethings not right with you. Dan and I both know it; there's no hiding it. You've told me that you were in the Hunger Games before, and you said it was a very bad experience, but I still don't know what it is. I'm thirteen now, mom. I can handle it."

I purse my lips into a firm line, and finally give in.

"Fine," I say. "But let's wait until we're home. Then I'll sit down and tell you and Dan. Just. . .don't say anything about it to Dan until then, got it?"

"Got it," she says, smiling. She runs back into her bedroom and I turn to Peeta, who has been watching from the bed the entire time. I give him a look of foreboding, wondering how we are going to handle this.

**Hey guys! Hope you liked that chapter. Man, I spend way to much time on beginnings. I haven't been getting that many reviews, and it's kind of disappointing. So, if I get a total of 15 reviews, I'll hurry to update! It really means a lot to me! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Our Old Lives

**So, I didn't follow through with my punishment. I couldn't resist. But, hey, I guess 7 reviews is better than 2. But seriously, I am constantly checking my iPod for a new review, so please, please press that little button down at the bottom! It'll make my day! :) Here's the next chapter! It's my personal favorite so far.**

"Katniss," says Peeta as we sit in the train, "I think this could really help. I mean, telling the kids about everything."

"I guess so. . ." I reply. "But, even then, the kids will have only heard stories about them. They'll never get to meet them, or even speak to them. They'll never know what kind of impression that they had on us."

Peeta adjusted his seating position on the couch, and turned to look at me, a small smile on his face. "That's why I was thinking about another thing that could possible help. Remember that book we made, years ago – the one with all our families in it? Well, if you saw that again, maybe it would help. It would remind you that we documented them when they were still fresh in our heads, and I even painted them. There memories are still with us, just all living in that book."

"The only problem about that is that I don't know where the book is. See, I'm terrible. I can't even keep track of something that contains their memories."

Peeta steadily walks over to me, putting his arm around my shoulders. "Don't say that. We have a life now, we can't keep obsessing over our lost loved ones. You know that we can't keep them on our minds every second of the day."

"I know, I know. . ."

There is a comfortable silence for a couple moments. After it, Peeta softly kisses my forehead.

"But that's not what we need to be worried about now. What we need to be worried about is how we're going to tell the kids."

I let out a sigh. The only reason I didn't want to have kids is because I didn't think I could stand watching them in pain, or worse; losing them. So far, they haven't encountered anything too bad, and I'm grateful for that. Because of that, telling them about all the misery in our lives seems like it'll pointlessly bring sorrow into their own. But kids are kids, and they will be curious. If we don't tell them now, they'll only keep prodding us until we do, and by that time, they'll be mad about it.

* * *

><p>Time passes, and suddenly I am sitting at our dining room table, my children waiting expectantly for our discussion. Peeta and I have decided to start from the beginning, telling a little more each day. Today we are going to tell about our lives in District Twelve, before the Hunger Games, before the rebellion, before anything devastating in our lives happened. This should be an easy start.<p>

Oh, how I am wrong.

I decide to start off the old-fashion way. "When mommy and daddy were little–" I begin to say.

"Mom, We're not five," interrupts Blossom.

Knowing that I'm terrible with words, I look over to Peeta for some help. He gets my signal and starts over.

"When your mom and I were younger, we lived right around where we live now, in the same District. Your mother's father was a coal miner, and grandma was an apothecary. They lived in the poor part of the District, know as the Seam. My family owned a bakery in town. Your grandfather was the best father I could have had, and my mother was. . . well. . . my mother. I also had two older brothers, too, but they used to pick on me a lot. District Twelve, as you probably know–"

"Was the mining District," Dan interrupts. "It was extremely poor. But hey, wasn't the Capitol harsh to every district, except maybe One and Two? We learned all about that at school. We don't need the history of the country or the Districts. Just your guy's story."

Peeta shoots him a glance. "Well, thank you for politely clearing that up for us, Dan. Anyways, the point is, everyone was starving there, and we had almost never had a full stomach in our lives. I don't know about your mom, but my life was just this – go to school, and do a shift at the bakery every day."

He pauses for a moment and I notice that it's my cue. "Growing up, my father taught me to hunt. Although it was illegal, we went through a gap in the fence in to the woods. That lake that I bring you two to all the time, that was our old spot. I also had a little sister; her name was Prim. Prim was wonderful. She was really intelligent, always knew what to say, and was way too mature for her age. She was my closest friend."

"Your sister?" Dan asks, confused. "How could you be friends with you sister?"

"And I wonder how you _can't,_" I reply. "Life was good, or at least as good as it can be when you live in the Seam. That is until. . . until my father died. I was at school when they announced there was a mining accident. Prim and I were rushed to the scene. I never got to see him again. . ."

"And," Peeta says after my mind wanders off, "what happened next?"

"Oh yeah. So, my mother went into a deep depression and really didn't do much. That was the first year that I was eligible for the terresea– do you guys know what it was?"

"Yes," says Blossom.

"Well, I took that for my family and I, but that wasn't enough. I hunted, but I only managed to catch a few squirrels and I needed practice at hunting. My mother wasn't working, so that took away from our income too. I bartered my squirrels at the hob – a black market – for other food. But that still wasn't enough. Prim and I were starving, and we were about to die because of it."

I stop.

"And?" Blossom asks, "what happened?"

"That's when I first met your dad," I say as I look over to the man mentioned. He nods towards the clock and I notice that it's getting late.

"I think that's enough for today," I hear Peeta say. "It's time for dinner."

"Please tell us!" Dan pleads.

"Tomorrow," I tell him, stroking his hair back.

**I need your guy's help with something. How in the world do you spell terresea? I don't have the books with me right now, so if anyone can tell me, please do so in a review. Hey, look! Another reason to review!**


	5. The Boy with the Bread

**I am so, so, so sorry for the lack of updates. I had a lot of school work going on: speeches, final projects, etc. But not only that, I was reading _The Help _like a madwoman! Great book! Excuses, excuses, I know, are never a good reason. But hopefully the (slightly) longer chapter makes up for it! Anyways, the movie was AWESOME. Did you guys see it? Did you think it was good or bad? What differences from the book did I not catch? I was also rereading my chapters and I noticed that there was a few grammatical errors. . . please excuse! ON WITH THE CHAPTER!**

Ah. . . Warm waffles and orange juice tingle on my taste buds, the smell of bacon in the air. It's Monday morning, and the kids are at school. Peeta decided to take the day off, and we are now having the breakfast of champions in our elegant house. The decor is nothing special compared to everyone else in the neighborhood. But that's okay, because Peeta and I decided to live modestly. There's silence in the kitchen, only because I'm inhaling the food on my plate rapidly into my stomach. Peeta flips over a piece of bacon and it sizzles onto the frying pan.

"Hey Peeta," I say between mouthfuls of food, "I think that we should try to find the book today."

He turns around to look at me, putting his hands up on the counter and leaning on it. "I thought you said you lost the book."

"Well, it has to be around here somewhere. I'm sure we can find it if we try. Plus, I really want to see it again. I think that reading it is a bit overdue."

"If you want to," he says, turning to face the stove again. I don't know why, but I suddenly get excited, and a little nervous. What if I break down and the kids see? They'll definitely want a good explanation then. But on the bright side, I'll also get to see the beautiful paintings that Peeta did. I love to see them, and he paints seldom now that the bakery is so busy. Well, at least I have a moderately eventful day ahead of me, rather then just stalking prey in the woods. And even better, it's just Peeta and I today, no distractions.

Once breakfast is finished, Peeta and I begin our quest. We start a the guest room closet, where we keep all of our things that need to be stored. We go through at least six boxes of nothing, though we do find a few pictures and videos of the kids along the way. We start getting tired at the eighth, but we don't stop looking. I know that it's got to be in this house somewhere.

After we have successfully gotten through the guest bedroom closet with out any traces of the book, we move onto our closet. Here we go. We've had this house since the end of the rebellion, and over the years our closet has accumulated a _lot_ of junk. Peeta sighs as he pulls open the door, and quickly removes as much of the excess junk as he can.

"Are you sure you still want to find that book?" he asks.

"Positive."

And at that, we keep searching. It takes us two hours of hard work before we finally see the floor in the back of the closet. We've developed a system that works reasonably well. We put all the trash are useless stuff into one pile, clothes into another, and things we want to keep into a third one. We've come to the point where we're just basically throwing the items behind our backs in the general direction of the designated pile, not caring about what that item is unless it's the book. We start to get slightly discouraged, but I keep reminding Peeta that it's been a while since we last saw the book, so it very well could be in the absolute back of the closet. It's a very daunting task, but we finally make it to the last small pile in the back.

And there it is.

It in pretty good condition for being so old and disregarded. I've figured it's about twenty-some years old, so this pleases me. As soon as I catch sight of it, I quickly snatch it up and notify Peeta, who is relived we've finally found it. I hurry to the kitchen table, dragging Peeta along by the hand. We sit down, and I pause before opening the book.

"Are you ready?" I ask Peeta, stalling.

"If you are," he replies. Well, that's Peeta for you.

As the pages are revealed, I feel a sudden happiness surge through me. But not a cheerful sort of happiness, but a melancholy one. As I turn through the pages, I feel reminiscent of the people, but I am sincerely glad to have been able to have them in my life. Finally, after all these years, I get to see them again. I get to feel their presence, and not in a nightmare. Prim's page is the best, with beautiful pictures of here delicately painted all over the page. I feel tears coming to my eyes, but it's nothing I can't handle.

After about an hour of Peeta and I marveling at our book, Blossom and Dan come home.

"What ya reading?" Dan asks. His voice indicates that he is just trying to make small talk.

"Nothing," I reply. "Just something that we found. . ."

"Well, in that case, you have enough free time to make us dinner! I'm starving," says Blossom.

"Me too," Dan agrees.

"How does liver and onions sound?" asks Peeta. Both of the kids cringe.

"Dad, food is not a matter to joke about," Blossom states. "We want pizza. And we want it now."

"With that attitude, you won't eat a thing. And no pizza tonight, kids. I've already got pork chops in the oven. They should be done in about fifteen minutes."

The fifteen minutes pass quickly as the kids tell us about their day. Dan had had to take a math test, and Blossom said that she learned about sound frequency in science. When all their tales are done, the oven is beeping, and dinner is served.

The kids have an insatiable appetite, especially Blossom. We eat dinner in a comfortable silence, occasionally making a joke every now and then. But this doesn't last very long because of Dan's curiosity.

"Mom, dad, it's tomorrow. What happens next?" he asks.

The whole family knows what he's referring to with this statement. I look over to Peeta for some help, and he glances back at me. He then sets down his fork and sighs.

"Pursuing little child, aren't you?" says Peeta.

Dan eagerly nods his head, expectantly waiting for the next story to come. Peeta yet again sighs.

"You were just about to tell us about the first time you and mom met, in case you were wondering," says Blossom.

Since Peeta started out last time, I guess it is my turn to do so. Here it goes.

"Like I was said yesterday, my family was very poor and on the brink of starvation. I was wondering around town one night, about ready to, well, die. I sat up against the tree outside the bakery, when a miracle happened. I was looking towards the bakery when I saw a boy about my age, standing with a loaf of burnt bread. He also had a bruise on his eye, and it had swollen pretty badly. He looked in to the window, as to make sure that no one was watching him, and he threw me the bread. I took it from off the ground and brought it back home. My family and I had a pretty decent meal that night. That bread gave me hope that we were going to make it, that I could manage to make ends meet. And, well, seeing that I'm here right now, I did just that. All because this boy gave me the bread."

I look at Peeta with loving eyes, and I can see that he's blushing.

"Awww!" exclaimed Blossom. "How cute!"

"Peeta," I say, "why don't you tell your side of the story?"

Peeta clears his throat, and begins to speak. "Your mother and I had always gone to school together; we were in the same year. Ever since I first laid eyes on her, I had a crush on her."

Another "awww!" comes from Blossom at this, and Dan just rolls his eyes.

"Anyways," Peeta continues, "The day that I saw her outside of the bakery, I felt really sorry for her. I wanted to do something for her, maybe give her some food. But that wasn't going to be easy, knowing that my mother doesn't give free handouts, and she especially hates people from the Seam. So, I burnt the bread on purpose. I knew the consequences were harsh, but I was willing to face them for her. My mother slapped me in the eye, and that was what caused the bruise that your mom described. My mother told me, as I expected, to go and feed it to the pigs. But I went outside and fed your mother instead. I thought that I had made sure that my mother wasn't watching, but I was wrong, and it turns out she was. When I came back inside, I got slapped again. But to me, that was worth it, because I got to help your mother."

At this, I give Peeta a peck on the lips. Blossom sighs, but Dan turns away, cringing.

"Okay, you two lovebirds, I think that's enough," states Dan.

"Dan's right," says Peeta. "It's time to do your homework."

And with that being said, I quietly walk up stairs, ignoring the groans, and read the parts of the book that Peeta and I skipped over. A smile is on my face the entire time.

**Well, that's a wrap! Hope you guys, once again, liked! Can you tell that I was hungry when I wrote this chapter? _Two_ meals!**


	6. An Unexpected Visitor

**So, I got kinda tired of the whole Peeta-and-Katniss-explain-something-to-Blossom-and-Dan-each-chapter thing I had going on there. So, I decided to throw something new into the mix. Hope you guys like!**

The next night, I lay in bed, more peacefully than I have in weeks, the book by my side. Whenever a nightmare chooses to enter my dreams, I wake up, snuggle up to Peeta, and begin reading the book. Most of my nightmares are still about not remembering, so this strategy really helps. The last two nights I've had about a nightmare a night, because no more can come after I read the book. I think that I'll start reading before I go to sleep every night, to prevent the initial nightmare. After the bread story, the kids haven't really interrogated us about our lives for the last few days, so we have not had to do any explaining. I'm glad. Hey, maybe this whole ordeal will die down and we won't have to tell them the rest of our story until their in their late twenties. Let's hope so.

The following day things go as normal; Peeta bakes, the kids go to school, and I hunt. I bring back three rabbits and two squirrels. Judging by my game bag being a little heavier, I decide that it was a reasonably successful day. I get home a bit earlier than the kids do, Peeta following them by about a half hour. My family and I get situated just as the sun is beginning to set. The kids are doing homework, Peeta's reading a book, and I am momentarily daydreaming. I look out the window of the dining room, and for once in a while, I actually reflect on just how great of a life I have. My view on life right now is almost as beautiful as the view of the setting sun. Sure, it's not perfect, and my past is dreadful, but right here, right now, my life is pretty good. I have a husband that I dearly love, wonderful kids, and receding nightmares. I love this content that I've never had before in my life. And as far as I know, nothing can change it. I'm glad that it all turned out the way it did, my past now not bothering the present.

That is, until there's a knock at my door.

I find it strange, usually we don't get visitors. And especially not on weekdays. Peeta was just about to cook dinner when it happened, and he offered to get it, but I told him that I would. As I walk up to our door, I can sense that something's going on. I don't know what, but something just _is_. I finally turn the knob on the door, and reveal my visitor. He is only too familiar with his dark hair and piercing gray eyes.

"G-g-gale," I stutter. Peeta's keen ears hear this and he joins me in the doorway.

"Oh, hey Gale," he says lightheartedly, "Long time no see." I can't comprehend why Peeta is okay with Gale suddenly appearing on our doorstep. Why has Gale chosen to show up now, out of all times? Why didn't he make himself a part of my life earlier? The time he has given me to ponder on what he did has made me cold towards him, and I don't want him near my children anymore. He, after all, did kill Prim, right?

"What are you doing here?" I ask, sternly. Gale's eyes look saddened at the harshness of my question.

"I came here to see. . . well, to see how you guys are doing," he replies.

"Katniss," Peeta inquirers, "why don't you let Gale in? I'm sure he doesn't want to stand outside all day."

"No, it's fine," says Gale, "If Katniss isn't comfortable with me coming in, I'll stay out here." This statement irritates me. Who is he to assume that I'm not comfortable with him coming in to my home? I am not comfortable with him doing so, but he doesn't need to be proven right. Just so he doesn't have that satisfaction, I decide to let him in.

"No, you can come in," I say.

"You sure? Because I'd be glad to stay out here."

"Come in, Gale." My voice has regained it's firmness. Gale reluctantly enters as Peeta and I step away.

"I didn't think I'd actually find you here. I'd thought you'd have moved out of Victor's Village."

"Yep," Peeta replies, "we're still here." Gale's question, yet again, irritates me. Of course we still live in our old house! Why have people build us another house when we already have one?

Peeta offers Gale a drink and motions for him to sit on the couch. Dan then comes from the dining room, his pencil still in hand. When he spots Gale he gives a questioning glance to Peeta and I. Strangers don't come into the house too often. Thinking back, I don't think that there has been one since Dan was born. No wonder he's perplexed.

"Hi," he says, greeting Gale with a certain ease. He definitely didn't get this trait from me. "I'm Dan."

"Nice to meet you, Dan. I'm Gale. I'm one of your mother's old friends."

"Dan," I interrupt, "go finish your homework." By this time, he may not have any more homework to do, but I don't care. If he doesn't, then he gets my innuendo anyways and goes back into the dining room. Once he's gone, Gale starts to speak.

"Katniss, look. . . I'm sorry that I didn't come by until now. I thought that you'd be really mad at me for what I did, and even if you weren't, I would remind you too much of Prim's death. I figured it would take at least fifteen years, maybe twenty, before you would get over it. And now, well, it's been twenty years. Approximately. I really wanted to come back, but I didn't think I could. I really hope that you forgive me."

Forgive him? Right here, right now? After all he's done? No way. First, he proved his disloyalty when we were fighting in the rebellion. Then, on top of that, he ran away to District Two, leaving me depressed and broken. And what makes it worse is that he has chosen to stay out of my life for twenty years. _Twenty years. _He may have been my best friend, but after what he did, I can never forgive him.

Peeta looks at me, trying to read my facial expression. I can tell by Peeta's face that he wants me to forgive him, solely because he wants there to be as much peace in our lives as possible. And a grudge against Gale definitely wouldn't abide this. So, for Peeta's sake, I go neutral.

"It's not going to be easy," I say. "There's no way that were going to be as close of friends as we once were, but maybe you could come by once in a while and I'll try not to be angry at you."

"Anything's good with me," Gale replies. Well, if anything was good with him, why did he come here? "I better get going. Claudia will want me back at the hotel before it gets too late."

_Claudia__. _I can't reason with the thought that Gale has a wife, or a least a steady girlfriend, now. He really has moved on, hasn't he?

I don't watch as Gale exits our house. I'm glad that he's gone. But as I try to take in his sudden appearance, a new thought comes to mind. How am I going to tell the kids about him now? I was planning on not telling them much about him, and I may of not even mentioned his name, maybe calling him "some boy". All possibilities of that are gone now. The kids have seen him, or at least Dan has, and they'll want to know more about him. Plus, he's in town, so he'll probably come by another time before he leaves.

So much for that peaceful content.

**Yeah. I actually did it. I threw Hawthorne into the mix. I can't believe it. But, I needed something new. Oh yeah, and about Peeta's reaction to Gale showing up, I thought that (since Peeta is Peeta) he would get over the once-might-of-been-relationship that Gale and Katniss had. In my mind, Peeta is nice to all. ;D **


	7. A Dinner Date

**Hello Hunger Games fanatics! Sorry I couldn't update yesterday. By the time I was almost done with this chapter it was really late and I . . . well . . . fell asleep. But anyways, this is going to be the last chapter with the annoying Seam boy in it. I kind of just wanted to use his appearance to raise questions from Dan and Blossom, and I needed a way to end it. So, here it goes. By the way, I'm almost up to 30 reviews! Yeah! *happy dance***

Finally, the weekend arrives. It was Thursday night that Gale stopped by, and my mind has had little diversion from the subject, even until now. But today, nothing of that matter is going to cross my mind. Today is Peeta and I's anniversary, and we are going out on a date. The kids are going to be going over to Haymitch's house to enjoy his and the geese's company. Haymitch has sobered up since the rebellion ended. I think the geese and, eventually, the kids attributed to this. Dan and Blossom have a great relationship with him; they consider him to be their grandfather. They absolutely love going over there. And, I have to admit, he is considerably friendly and caring with them. But that still doesn't restrain his sarcasm. Old habits die hard.

Anyways, tonight is going to be a very lavish night. Well, as lavish as you can get in District Twelve. District Twelve has established one decently high-class restaurant in the vicinity, and – since Peeta and I still have all that victor money – we can afford to go to it. Blossom has been my personal assistant in advising me on what to where tonight, whether I like it or not. I'm not going to argue, she is nothing like me when it comes to girlishness, and has a great sense of fashion. She has done my hair up in a elegant bun, a dark red ribbon wrapped around it. She has also done my makeup with precision and expertise, making my dark eyes darker and complexion deeper. For me, I do kinda look pretty. Blossom has also taken the time to pick out the perfect dress; a gray silk gown that effortlessly drapes my body. I honestly can't believe that she is my child.

At six o'clock Peeta and I walk the kids to the house next to ours. As we walk up the doorsteps, I can see excitement develop in my kids eyes. An old man answers the door.

"Haymitch!" my kids yell. They run into arms and he squeezes them tightly. Although they are tweens, they still act like little kids when it comes to Haymitch. Who would've guessed.

I tell Haymitch that we'll be home by nine, but he seems to be to busy playing a game of thumb war with Dan to listen. He halfheartedly waves as Peeta and I exit the house, and we shake our heads.

"Haymitch is a sixty-some year old former drunkard victor who raises geese. Why is he good with our kids?" Peeta asks me.

"I know as much as you do, honey."

The rest of the way was spent in a comfortable silence, our hands entwined. When we arrive at the restaurant, Peeta suddenly stops and turns, marveling at the sunset. He lazily drapes his arm around me, telling me that he will paint this scene when we get home. I rest my head on his shoulder, and also stare into the setting sun's beauty. Tonight is going to be wonderful.

A few moments later, Peeta and I turn ourselves to face the front door of the restaurant and enter. Our waitress seems nice enough as she guides us to our seats. I can tell that she isn't from here, maybe from a richer district by the way she dresses. The restaurant is close to vacant when we walk in, which isn't surprising. Nobody in District Twelve can afford to go out for an evening. I wonder how this place is still in business.

Peeta and I sit down and take a glance at the menus. We've only been to a restaurant a few times before, savoring it as a luxury. We order our drinks and ask the waitress for time before we order our meals.

Peeta and I engage in a lovely conversation about some funny moments with the kids that the other missed. The waitress comes back, looking as though she's coming to take our orders, seeing that no one else is here. But, as usual, I am wrong. The waitress instead goes to seat another guest. Who else would come into a high-class restaurant in District Twelve besides us?

Well, my questioned is answered by a silent hunter's footsteps coming closer. I look at Peeta and I see a look of distress on Peeta's face. Not because Gale's here, but because _I'm mad_ at Gale for being here.

The restaurant only has one main dining area, so I can clearly get a view of Gale and "Claudia". But it's not only those two. There's another two presumable Hawthornes. A baby is held in each of the adults arms, the one in Gale's arms wrapped in a pink blanket, the other in a blue one.

Peeta and I are sitting relatively close to the back, and this room's only lit by candlelight, so I guess they don't see us. Gale sits down, his back facing me, but I get a full view of Claudia. She has teased up blond hair, and is wearing a sparkly pink shirt and skinny jeans. She looks as though she's a lowlife Capitol person; she was probably raised in one of the wealthier districts. How could Gale marry a person like _her_?

I look back over to Peeta to see him mouthing the words "Ignore him". I set my lips in a straight line, and continue eating.

The rest of the evening is silent, Peeta and I not wanting Gale to know of our presence. This results in us finishing our plates twice as fast, and sitting there in an awkward silence. The waitress comes around with the check, and we have no other choice then to leave.

Peeta and I slowly get up from our table and head for the door. But not with out someone noticing us.

"Katniss!" Claudia calls, "Peeta! Fancy meeting you two here."

I let out a sigh under my breath, and again wonder how Gale could have married this person. I reluctantly turn around, letting my strong Peeta take my hand.

"Hey guys!" Peeta replies, "How has you're vacation been going?" Gale's eyes lock on mine and he knows that I have not put a single effort into being less angry at him.

"Good," Gale replies. "So. How's life?"

"Fine," I quickly answer, not dropping my gaze. "Fine and dandy."

"Ooh!" Claudia squeals with joy, "I'm so glad to finally meet you guys! The famous Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen! Oooooh!" Claudia then runs over and hugs each of us, making us both feel very awkward. But even this does not break Peeta's connection with my hand. And since when have I been called by maiden name?

"Well," Peeta says, "we better get going. We promised Haymitch we'd be home soon."

"We can drive you home!" Claudia offers. They have a _car_! I rarely ever saw a car in the Capitol! But in District Twelve?

"No, I think we're fine–"

"Don't be ridiculous," Claudia retorts, grabbing my hand. She has surprising strength, and I can't move my hand away with out too much of an effort. Peeta follows me and we hesitantly get in the vehicle.

The ride home is completely and utterly silent, but at least in doesn't last for very long. When we arrive at the house, Peeta and Claudia engage in some kind of conversation about cakes, which Peeta obviously tries to get out of as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, Gale pulls me aside, out of earshot from Peeta and Claudia.

"Look Katniss. . . Well, I'll just get straight to the point," he says. He gives out a shuddered sigh. "Do you forgive me, or not?"

Just because he helped my family all those years back, I give him the most honest answer I have.

"No, Gale. I don't forgive you."

**Oh boy! It's a not-so-shocking ending to this chapter. Pretty bad anniversary, right? Let's hope next year's better! Sorry, but I'm not going to be able to update the rest of the week, so expect the next chapter up sometime Saturday. Oh, and by the way, I have a challenge for you guys. Tell me what character (from any book) that Claudia was based off of! I'll mention who ever gets it right in the following chapter! (I just might of mentioned the book that the character is in in a previous chapter! *hint hint*) Well, bye!**


	8. Gale, the ExBoyfriend

**Wow. A week late. I'm terrible, aren't I? Anyways, I love the reviews I am getting! They truly make my day! And I realized something while writing the last chapter: I didn't have to much of my favorite character, Haymitch! I just had to include him. Thanks for reading!**

When I walk into Haymitch's house, my kids are waiting expectantly, while their babysitter is eying Peeta and I with curiosity. They are sitting at the dining room table, cards in each of their hands, and a stack on the center of the table. I let out a deep sigh as I walk over to them, Peeta following me, and place my hands on Dan's shoulders. Peeta walks behind Blossom, ruffling her hair.

"Well kids, party's over," Peeta says, playing with blossoms dark hair. Haymitch puts down his hand of cards, and gets up out of his seat.

"Dan, Blossom," he addresses my children, "why don't you go and pack you things up before you leave? Make sure to pick up the mess you rug-rats made in there, too."

Blossom and Dan do so obediently, though they have a resentful look on their faces. As Haymitch starts to pick up the cards he begins to speak.

"Was that who I–"

"Yes," I reply quickly, trying to drop the matter. "It's a really long story. . ."

"We have time. Your kids made a pretty good mess in the guest room." Haymitch turns his attention to Peeta, knowing that I'll not want to talk about it with him.

"Gale has suddenly decided to come to District Twelve. He says he thought it would take Katniss at least twenty years before she forgave him, so he's decided to come down now with his wife and twin babies," Peeta explains for me.

"I can see his logic," Haymitch states under his breath.

"Hey!" I intervene. "I don't hold that big of a grudge."

"Well, have you forgiven him?"

I look down and shuffle my feet. "No. ."

"My point exactly."

"Anyways," Peeta continued, "Him and his family came to the restaurant and after dinner his. . . _outgoing _wife offered to bring us home. In his _car_."

Haymitch's eyebrows went up and he let out a sigh. That seemed to be a popular thing to do tonight. But while he was doing this simple action, a thought came to my mind. Next we would have to bring up and explain the Hunger Games to Dan and Blossom, and the person currently standing in front of me could take some of that task off my shoulders. I decide to act on this notion.

"Hey Haymitch?" I start. "Would you be willing to do us a favor?"

"Depends on what that favor is," he replies.

"Well, you see. . ." At this point Peeta's attention is mine, and I can tell by the look on his face that he's wondering what I am doing. I glance his way, and, yet again, sigh. "We've been trying to explain what happen to us to Dan and Blossom. We've gotten to to the point when Peeta gave me the bread, and I was kind of wondering if you would help us out when it came to the Hunger Games. When we get to it, of course. I sure that they'll want to ask many question about you-know-who now. . ."

"Who's asking questions?" a small voice inquires. I look behind my back to see Dan and Blossom emerging out of the hallway.

"Nobody, sweetie," Peeta covers.

"Yes, I'll do it," Haymitch answers. I give another sigh of relief as Haymitch does a little half-jog over to my kids, giving a bear hug to Blossom, then picking Dan up, swinging him around like a five-year-old. They both giggle giggle as he does this, causing me to smile. Haymitch then bent down to their level, and gave them a goodbye.

"See ya later, munchkins," he says.

And with that, we walk out the door. Sleep that night didn't come too easy for me; I guess I was worried about the kids questions concerning Gale. But, as always, Peeta was there to comfort me, and eventually lulled me to sleep.

* * *

><p>The light coming in from the window was now dimmed, for the sun was currently setting. I was positioned sitting at the at the dining room table yet again, my children waiting for me to speak. My body was stiff with tension, not wanting to explain a touche subject with my kids. But I knew I had no choice on the matter; after all, they did have a right to this information, and I would be very aggravated if it wasn't being shared with me. So, after many of Peeta's frequent glances, I gave in.<p>

"The man that stopped by our house, the one named Gale, well. . . I guess he was kind of part of the next part of my life. He was my best friend at the time, and we used to go hunting every Sunday. Something happened later between him and I. . . we didn't really see each other since then. We'll get to that later, though."

"Was he your boyfriend, mom?" Blossom asks.

"No! I mean, he was a good friend and all, but, no." I look over to check the expression on Peeta's face, but I see that it is still relaxed. Apparently he is comfortable with these kinds of questions. However, for me, these are the questions I was dreading.

"Ya sure? Because with the way you were acting, it kind of seemed like he was your ex," Dan chimes in, a smirk playing on his face. Oh great. Now they were teasing me about it.

"Dan," I say firmly.

"Okay, okay. I was just kidding, you know. No need to get your panties in a twist."

I glare at him. But looking over to my side, I could see a smirk growing on Peeta's face. I then turn my glare his way, but that just brings chuckles.

"What? You are _really_ easy, you know," he tells me.

"What do you mean by 'really easy'?" I ask.

"Really easy to mess with."

"Am not!"

"I beg to differ on that statement."

I give out an annoyed sigh and turn back to my kids. "Anyways, that was my life until I was sixteen. Hunting, trading, and making sure that my family survived."

"What happens after that? What changes when you turn sixteen?" Blossom inquires.

"For that, kids, we will need grandpa Haymitch's help," Peeta answers for me.

"Grandpa's coming over?" they both exclaim.

"Yep, but not 'till tomorrow." Peeta then stands up, moving towards the sink to do the dishes. "For now you guys are going to bed."

"But _dad_," Blossom groans, "It's only eight o'clock and I'm thirteen."

"If you want to stay up later, then go to bed and _read_," I tell her.

Blossom rolls her eyes and stomps off to her room. Dan gets up out of his seat, yawns, and treads after her.

"I am not 'easy to mess with'," I whisper to Peeta.

"Oh yes you are," he replies with a kiss.

**Okay, okay. I had to tease Katniss. Bye!**


	9. Rules and Regulations

**Hello, peoples! So, I know what your thinking – "The description says that they find the book! When does that come in?" Well, don't worry. I'm planning to let them find it when they get towards the end of _Catching Fire_, which shouldn't be too far way. Oh, and by the way, I just finished reading _Eclipse, _so expect some Twilight fanfiction after I finish _Breaking Dawn. _And I would just like to announce that I am INCREDIBLY HAPPY because I have achieved a shocking 41 reviews! Any-who, on with the story!**

Cold air rushes into my system, waking me up quickly. I really wish that Peeta could sleep with the window closed, especial in the winter time. I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, for I had promised Dan and Blossom that there would be a continuation of Peeta and I's story. And, that continuation happened to be the telling of the Hunger Games.

A challenge had given to me. And a concerning a sensitive subject for that matter. I would have to describe the Hunger Games in as much detail that would satisfy Dan and Blossom, but still as little detail to not make them deathly afraid. I had Peeta and Haymitch to back me up, but who knows whether or not I'm going to brake down in front of all four of them? My seldom nightmares still had images from the 74th Hunger Games in them, and I can barely think about that event without having some sort of anxiety. I'm dreading the rest of the day.

A few minutes pass by before Peeta wakes up, and when he does, he goes immediately to the kitchen. I linger in bed for a little while after, but soon get up to take a shower. My mind is so preoccupied with the day ahead that before I know it, I am seated at the dining room table, an omelet placed in front of me. The kids each are shoving mouthfuls of cereal into their mouths, still in their pajamas. They seem groggy enough; after all, it is Saturday morning. Peeta stands over a pan, flipping something with his spatula. I look at the clock. Ten-thirty. Damn. Only two more hours until. . . I don't even want it to cross my mind.

I scheduled Haymitch to come over for lunch around noon to discuss the subject. I'd strategically planned it early to make sure that I wouldn't have to fret over it all day. But at this moment, I wish that could postpone it for as long as possible.

The kids and I go out to the newly-built park soon after breakfast, playing with whatever ball we could get our hands on. We have a great time, laughing carelessly as the Blossom drops the ball yet again. I do a good job of masking my anticipation, or at least I think I do. But much to soon, The sun is directly above our heads.

* * *

><p>"The hamburgers are delicious," I comment on the delectable meal in front of me. Haymitch sits across from me, devouring the juicy beef that's on his plate.<p>

Dan is the first to speak up, ever the negotiator. "So," he says, looking around the table, "We know that the Hunger Games was a punishment from the Capitol, and it involved some deaths. We also know that a girl and boy from each district were sent into it. But what was it, really?"

"'Some' deaths," Haymitch scoffs.

"Well, you see," Peeta starts off, and I can tell that he's slightly more worried about this discussion than he was the other ones. "The Hunger Games, basically, was a fight to the death."

Shock appeared on Dan and Blossom's faces. In the new world after the rebellion, the death rate in Panem is extremely lower than it had been before. No one is starving, and there wasn't that many threats to human life. So, death is a foreign concept for my children. To hear that the nation was forced to send it's kids to their inevitable death, it must seem quite immoral.

"Twenty-four come in, only one comes out. All of the participants, or 'tributes' as we called them, were sent into an arena, where what we called 'gamemakers' controlled the setting. Teenagers were sent to kill one-another, all on live television."

My kids' mouths only dropped more at this. They're terrified, I can see it in their faces. This has to stop. It _needs _to stop. I can't let my kids, Blossom barely in her teens, face my terror. I now have a sudden urge to protect them, though now harm is threatening them. But I know that we have to go through with the plan, so I remained unmoving, my face changing expressions.

"There were no rules," Peeta continues, "except for maybe not stepping off your platform before the gong. Was the gong was rang, the games began. Most of them ran for what we called the 'cornucopia' a place where all the supplies was held. That was basically the only place where you could get any man -made supplies, except for sponsors. Sponsors paid to have supplies sent to you. That's basically how all the game play goes. Teens from the poorer districts didn't have too much of a chance at winning the Games, because the wealthier ones trained kids specifically for winning. We called them 'Career Tributes', or just Careers. They usually volunteered at the reaping."

As Peeta gets further into the story, the kid's amazement dwindles to where they can shut their mouths. Dan even asks a question.

"What was 'the reaping'?" he asks, still reasonable dumbfounded.

"That's how they chose who was going into the Hunger Games," Haymitch chips in. "The escort of the district picked a two names from two giant bowls, one with girls' names, and one with boy's. The Capitol made the districts treat it as though it was a holiday, and everyone got dressed up. Oh, and Peeta, you forgot my part. Tributes had what you call 'mentors' to help them through the Games, and to get sponsors. They were basically the tributes' managers. Mentors were former victors of the Games. I was you mother and father's mentor."

"You won the Hunger Games, too?" Blossom asks, eyes wide. Haymitch just shrugs.

"Yeah. But the Capitol didn't like how I'd won, and they killed all my family because of it. They'd thought I'd outsmarted them. So, until you two little balls of joy came, I drowned my sorrows in liquor."

I turn a glare over to Haymitch. I know that his Games are a touchy subject for him too, but that doesn't mean that he has to be so blunt about it.

I shake my head, clearing the subject. "Anyways, continuing our story," I start, "Prim, your aunt, was reaped against all odds. Her name had only been entered once, but she still got picked. I couldn't bear the thought of watching Prim die on national television. She was so small, so fragile. . . I acted immediately. I volunteered."

Blossom gasps. "So you basically just sent yourself to die, all for your little sister?" she asks.

I blush slightly. "Yeah. Kind of."

"I was reaped after you mother," Peeta says. "No one volunteered for me, as you can see."

Peeta, as ever, is good-natured at this. He even makes the last part a bit of a joke.

"So, as the story goes, they were off into the Hunger Games!" Haymitch says in his best story-telling voice. "To find out what happens next, you just might have to wait for tomorrow! But really," he adds, back to his normal voice, "my geese need feeding. I should probably get them something to eat before the couch looks like a cheeseburger to them."

Even though they are still mildly shocked, the kids laugh at this. "Please," Dan pleads, "tell us more."

"Tomorrow," Haymitch says, getting up to leave.

Well, at least I don't have to face the horror of telling them _my_ personally story of the Hunger Games until tomorrow.

**I think that I'm getting into a consistent schedule of updating every Saturday, but I truly just update when I have time. So, see ya next week!**


	10. Reactions

**So, yeah. This is just kind of a filler chapter. I wanted to show just how much this was effecting Haymitch and Katniss. I put a little of Peeta in at the end. Hope you like!**

By this time, I have "The Book", as Peeta and I call it, almost completely memorized. I can immediately flip to any person's page that I chose. I can even describe all of Peeta's paintings with my eyes closed. Every night, I sit in bed and look at it. It helps me go to sleep. Every morning, I return it back to a little hidden spot in our bookshelf. If the kids happen to catch me reading it, I tell them that it's my journal, and that I write in it every night. I know I should tell them what it is, and maybe even show it to them, but. . . Well, I'm just too afraid.

The shock that displayed itself on their faces when we told them about the cruelty of the Hunger Games proves that this information disturbs them. I'm just glad that they are in no way mentally attached to the people that were killed by the Capitol or it's barbarous Hunger Games. They will have never met Cinna, will have never gotten to see Prim's duck tail, and will have never of got to go fishing with Finnick. This thought saddens me. But, at the same time, I am grateful that they never had to deal with that great of loss.

I look over to the dimly lit clock that hangs on the wall, and I notice that it's not even five-o'clock yet. I should have known that I was awake too early by the sun's place in the sky, or rather the lack of it. I desperately try to lure myself back to sleep, but my attempts are feeble. I decide to get up, heading for the kitchen.

I make my way to the fridge, getting a glass of ice water. I sit down at the dining room table, taking a small sip.

Then an unexpected thing happens.

I hear a deep scream coming from somewhere in Victor's Village. I know the voice. I rush out the door, grabbing a jacket, and head in the direction of the sound.

Haymitch.

I barge into his house with out giving any indication that I'm going to do so. I call out his name, but I don't get a reply. Another scream echoes through the house. I now rush up the stairs two at a time. I quickly open his bedroom door.

There he is, curled up in a ball, shaking. I am hesitant to go near him, the knife in his hand still apparent.

"Haymitch?" I call out, cautiously moving towards the bed. His eyes are squinted shut, and I notice that an open flask in sitting on his nightstand. Haymitch hasn't drunk for years, and I can't think of a reason that he would start now. What happened that caused Haymitch to resort to drinking again?

I tiptoe towards him until I am only a few feet away from the bed. I slowly reach my arms out to grasp him, shaking him a little. He launches at me, swinging the knife in wild arches. Expecting this, I leap out of the way, avoiding lethal injury. His eyes slowly open, but I can tell that he's still out of it. He starts putting less effort in to his swings, and I, very carefully, ease him back onto the bed.

"Haymitch?" I ask him. "What's going on?"

His heavy panting is the only thing that can be heard. His head turns back to face me.

"Katniss," he sighs. "I really don't think that we should tell the kids anymore. Tell them that. . . that. . ." He trails off and his eyes drift close again. "I didn't like the look on their faces when we told them. At all. They're not ready."

I shut my eyes, my eyebrows creasing. "I know," I tell him, "but they'll keep asking questions. Believe me, I don't want to tell them anymore than you do. You know, you don't have to help if you don't want to. . ."

"No. I want to help. But. . . I don't think that they're ready. Blossom's thirteen, and Dan's only _ten_. . ."

"It's too late. They won't stop prying us. I've tried to waver off it until they forgot, but they didn't. They kept asking questions."

Haymitch opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I now feel awkward, just standing here looking over him. Then a thought enters my mind. Why was he screaming?

As if he could read my mind, he answers, "Nightmare."

"Oh," is my great reply. I know that Haymitch isn't one for sharing is feelings, but I can't help my curiosity. "What was it about?"

"The kids going into the Games. Or rather, going through what you two did. Big, open wounds in Dan's leg, Blossom being mentally scarred and having to hide in closets. . ."

He trails off yet again, and I don't try for more. I know what horrors nightmares can hold. I sit down on his bed, fiddling with my fingers.

"Thanks for waking me up," he says. "It's a good thing my screaming stopped before anyone else could here. That would've been hard to explain."

"No problem." I get up, moving out of the door. As I exit his house into the cold air, I wonder what time it is. Peeta will be getting up soon, and if he finds me gone, he'll definitely be worried. With this thought, I jog my way back to my house. I quietly open the door, trying not to wake anyone up. I enter the living room to see Peeta walking in from the bedroom, yawning.

"There you are," he says. "Where have you been?"

"Haymitch's," I answer. His puzzled expression tells me that I need to go into more detail. "He was screaming earlier. Nightmare."

"What was it about?"

"Dan and Blossom."

I don't need any further explanation than that.

"He wants us to stop telling them, doesn't he." This was more of a statement then a question.

"Yep."

"And you told him. . ."

"That it was too late. That they'd just keep prying until we caved."

Peeta nods his head at this, understanding. I look over at the clock, and notice that it's almost six-thirty. On a Saturday morning.

"Kids won't be up for two hours, at least," Peeta says. "Why don't we take a walk?"

"Sure," I reply, heading towards the door.

The first few minutes are full of silence as Peeta and I concentrate on our feet. Winter is setting in, and the first snow is only days away. Peeta has his arm around me, pulling me close. Leaves crumble under his feet, but avoid mine. The subtle wind give the air more of a chill, and blows my long hair back. My classic braid hasn't been used in the last few days, and I wonder why. It used to be a routine that every morning I would do my hair up, but in the past few days, it hasn't crossed my mind. I make a mental note to put it up when I get home.

"So," Peeta starts, "is Haymitch still coming over for dinner? You did tell him that he doesn't have to do this anymore if he doesn't want to, right?"

"Yeah, I did, but he told me that he still wants to."

"Mm. Guess that means that tonight's still on?"

"Yes," I reply. "It's still on."

**You know what would happen if I got to fifty reviews? I would FREAK! But seriously, please review! It truly fills my heart with joy!**


	11. StarCrossed Lovers

**Hey, guys! Another Saturday, another chapter. Sorry, I'm not getting to the actual Hunger Games yet, but I promise that the next chapter where they tell them I will. Oh, and by the way, not only did I get _50_ reviews, but _57! _I was sooooo exited! I didn't have really any thing to put before they got directly into telling them, so I just kind of cut to the chase. Hope you enjoy!**

"So, after we visited with our families in the Justice Building, we were put onto a train on our way to the Capitol," Peeta begins. All of my family and Haymitch sit around the table, but out of the five, only two are excited for this discussion. My confidence was shaking this morning, so I stuffed The Book in my jacket pocket for comfort. I look over at Haymitch, and I can see that his opinion on telling them still stands. His shoulders are tense, and his happy-go-lucky demeanor that he usually has with the kids is gone. Even Peeta looks a little apprehensive, fiddling with his thumbs. "When we arrived, we were immediately sent to get ready for the chariot rides. Do you guys know what those were?"

They both shake their heads, eyes still glued on Peeta.

"Well, chariot rides were the first time the Capitol got to see the kids after the reapings. The tributes rode in on a chariot with their district partner, in some kind of costume that would relate to their district's industry. The stylist designed their outfit and were sure to make it flashy. Luckily, your mom and I had pretty darn good stylist, with a bit of a rebellious side." Peeta smirks at this, ruffling Dan's hair. His actions bring a slightly less tense feeling to the table. Haymitch doesn't seem to notice, his eyes still anxiously taking in the situation.

I know that our arrival at the Capitol was not bloody nor scarring, so I decide to go along with the with the slightly theatrical telling of our story.

"Your father and I's outfits were pitch black to represent coal, but you know what stood out about them?" I ask, leading the kids on. They eagerly shake their heads, and a smirk appears on my face. "They were on fire."

Blossom gasps at this, and Dan's eyes bulge. "You're kidding." Dan states. "How is that possible? How did you not get burnt?"

"They were fake," I simply reply. "I'm not to sure how the science of the apparel went, but I know that to the world, I was on fire, but yet I felt no heat."

"Wow," Blossom mumbles.

I know that a important person comes in at this point; Cinna. This is the reason why we decided to tell the kids; to inform them of the wonderful people that we encountered that they never got the chance to meet. But yet, I still feel a bit of a reluctance to. I would be glad to inform them of Cinna's life, but with life comes death, and that subject is a little more tricky. But I know that it is necessary for me to do, so I do it.

"The creator of or outfits name was Cinna. He was different from the majority of the Capitol people," I start out. "He didn't wear flashy clothes, didn't act like the Hunger Games was entertainment, and he understood what the Capitol was doing to the districts. He was very kind and a great person to call a friend."

Peeta smiles at me, trying to lessen the pain of my remembrance of Cinna. He takes my hand, firmly squeezes it, letting it rest on the table.

Feeling my need, he speaks up, "After the chariot rides were done, we went to training. We learned survival skills, and got to watch the Careers show off. It was great fun.

"After finishing our training, we went to sent to what were kind of like tribute assessment test, where the gamemakers decided how lethal you were. They rated you on a scale of one to twelve. All the Careers usually got about an eight through ten. I got an eight, but your mom was really amazing. She got an eleven."

"Tell them how you managed that one, Katniss," Haymitch says, speaking for the first time.

I twiddle my fingers. "They weren't paying attention to me, so I kind of . . . shot the apple in their roasted pig's mouth. It went right by them, and it definitely made my shot look good. The look on their faces was great . . . I stormed out afterward. You were usually supposed to wait until they dismissed you."

"Her feisty attitude earned her an eleven." Haymitch's input surprises me. I didn't expect him to say anything, but I guess he did say that he wanted to help.

"Next came the interviews," I pipe in. "Mine went alright, I guess . . ."

"Alright! You had the crowd in the palm of you hand!" Peeta tells me.

"Okay, so I did pretty good. At one point, I spun around in circles and the bottom of my dress caught fire. But your father did even better. Tell them, Peeta."

"I joked around with Caesar some. That was pretty much it."

"No it wasn't!" Haymitch says. "Tell them about my genius plan that kept you two alive in the arena."

"Okay, okay. So I went with Haymitch's 'genius' plan. When Caesar Flickerman asked if I had a girl back home, I said that I didn't, but I had a crush on one. He told me to win, go home, then she'd never refuse me. But I told him that that wouldn't work, because she came to the Capitol with me."

"You meant mom?" Dan asks.

"Yep," Haymitch replies for him. "And thus, the star-crossed lovers from District Twelve were born!"

"Funny thing is, your mother didn't know about the plan yet, so she thought that I did it just for my sake. She beat me up for it," he adds, chuckling.

"Hey, I had a right to," I retort. I look out the window, and I notice that the sun is setting. It is beautiful, precisely Peeta's favorite color. The way it's light shines behind the trees is astonishing, and I immediately have the urge to get a better view. "The next day we would be sent into the arena, but I think that that can wait for tomorrow. Right now we have to enjoy the beautiful sunset."

I get up, grab hold of the two people sitting next to me (which happen to be Peeta and Haymitch) and drag them outside. I run about ten meters in the direction of the setting sun, and plot down on the grass. My kids sit on either side of me, taking in the sun's beauty. I sense Haymitch and Peeta come up behind us, Peeta sitting down, Haymitch shuffling his feet.

"Well, it's getting kind of late. Better get going," Haymitch says. He starts to walk away.

"Thanks," I call out to him.

"'Welcome." he grunts in reply.

I wrap my arms around both of my kids, and lean back on Peeta. Today wasn't as hard as I'd thought it would be. We didn't have time to go into the arena, so that was a major plus. But the next time that Haymitch comes over we will. I don't even want to think about it. Now, not am I only worried about myself breaking down in front of the kids, but I'm worried about Haymitch, too. And if he decides that this is too much for him, he might just go back to drinking. That wouldn't be good for anyone, especially the kids. But for now, I will just have to savor the stress-free moment like this one, and deal with the unmentionable as they come.

**Well there you go! I hope you liked it! So now that I've gotten 50 reviews, guess what my next goal is. 100! I would really appreciate if you would help me on that journey!**


	12. Let the Games Begin

**I can't believe it! After two whole years, I'm actually continuing this story! Now, I don't have that great of a memory, so I had to go back and reread all of the chapters I had previously wrote. Also, the books aren't fresh in my head, so correct me if I slip up on some of the details. If you are one of those loyal people who have come back to this story after two years, thank you so much!**

_Boom! The Games begin. Everyone around me is running to the cornicopia in the center of the arena. My heart is pounding. I look over to see my fellow tributes and. . . wait. . . those are my kids! On the faces of every male tribute are Dan's adorable features and all the female tributes have been made in Blossom's likeness. My feet are frozen to the platform._

_Chaos is raging on near the cornucopia as my children murder each other over and over again. I let out a piercing scream, a scream that could surely to break any mirror, when one of the Dans looks my way, his childish face twisted menacingly. A knife in his hand, he raises his arm and prepares to swing in my direction—_

I wake up in a cold sweat, my breathing gone awol. Peeta, laying beside me, jerks his body up and begins to console me.

"Katniss," he says, "Katniss, it's alright."

But it's not alright. That's my first night since we began revisiting The Book. I knew retelling my past—especially to my children—was going to be tough, but I didn't imagine I'd have horrific nightmares from it. Looking at my alarm clock, I see that it is two a.m. Today, hopefully with Haymitch's assistance, we will begin to explain our time in the 74th Hunger Games, a period of my life which I can only dream of forgetting.

"Peeta?" I ask. "How gruesome should we get?"

There is a slight pause as Peeta bites his lip, pondering. He knows exactly what I am referring to. He knows exactly what my nightmare was about.

"We have to get into some detail. Some old tapes from the Games are being passed around, and I don't want some kid telling our children about what we went through before we do it ourselves."

There is a pause.

"I'm dreading tonight."

"You're not the only one."

* * *

><p>"When the gong went off, I ran for the wood while you mother—"<p>

"Staid put," I continue. "Only for a second though. You're father distracted me."

A smirk came on Peeta's face, and I know he is trying to lighten the mood. I decide to play along, rolling my eyes.

"Don't get too full of yourself. Anyways, I quickly ran to get this bow, but I came across a Career girl that liked to throw knives. I picked up a backpack instead, and I was lucky enough to. . .acquire a knife."

"Meanwhile," says Peeta, "I had an ingenious plan that was about to unfold. Eventually the pack of Careers found me, and I convinced them to let me join them by saying that I knew where your mother would be."

"Real nice dad," says Blossom. But her sarcasm isn't fooling me. I can she is a little shocked by her parents' past, and maybe even a little scared.

"Don't worry," Haymitch's says, "he comes through for your mom in the long run. Just wait. So, while your dad was with the Careers, your mom was hanging out around the edge of the arena. But the Gamemakers didn't like that too much, so they sent a few fireballs to keep her on track. It was then she met up with your father, in a nice small pool."

Dan's face is completely mesmerized, although it was nothing like his expression was last night, when he was about to. . .

Never mind.

"Yeah," Peeta continues, "and your mother got away from the Careers and up into a tree, where the Careers tried, unsuccessfully, to knock her down. But it was my bright idea to wait her out, until she had to come down."

There is a look of shame on Peeta's face as he says this, as though he still blames himself for allying with Careers during our first Hunger Games.

"But," I say, "it was your bright idea that saved my butt. Rue, a little girl from District Eleven, was up in the tree next to me and pointed to a tracker jacket nest on a branch near me. I cut it down, and it landed on the group of the Careers sleeping below."

I am not comfortable recalling these events. This was the first instances in which I actually killed another human being, and I'm not proud of it.

Reluctantly, I continued. "There was a blond Career that was killed by the swarm. She had a bow, so I took it."

"Awesome!" exclaims Dan. "You have a bow now. Your ultimate specialty. "

I am _really_ not thrilled with his excitement.

"Don't get your hopes up," says Haymitch. "Along with the Careers, she was also stung by a few tracker jackers, so your mom was a little loony for the next few days."

"What? How did she survive?" says Blossom.

"That will be a question that we will answer tomorrow," Peeta says, getting up from the dinner table. "Dan, why don't you help your sister do the dishes?"

"But da-ad," they both groan.

"No excuses," he replies. "You two need to start doing some more chores around here. Now get to work."

With that, Haymitch heads out the door, and Peeta and I sit down in our living room for some reality television.

"You did great," Peeta whispers to me.

"You did al lot better," I reply.

**Sorry for the slightly smaller chapter, but I kind of wanted to ease back into it. Criticism is very welcome, and thanks to all who review. Bye!**


	13. Rue

**Hey guys! Looks like I've gotten into a updating kick. I'm kind of running out of ideas for chapters, so I'm not sure if I will be able to continue this story. I really want to, so some suggestions on how to do so will be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!**

Our plates are cleared and our stomachs full. Dan lets out a large _burp _that is sure to be heard by our neighbors.

"Dan!" I scold.

"Sorry, I can't help it."

Peeta wipes his hands on his napkin, and Blossom looks around the room, fidgeting in her seat. "Can we get started now?" she asks.

"Yeah," says Dan, "What happens to you after you get stung, mom?

"Well," I begin, "Your father over here protected me from the Careers by shoeing me away from them. Then, I went out cold."

"How in the world did you not get killed," asks Blossom, her eye brows up and mouth drawn wide open.

"I had help from a friend," I continue. "I mentioned her yesterday, her name was Rue. She put these leaves on me that soothed the stings, and she attended to me for days while I was asleep."

"Wow," says Blossom, resting her head on her hands. "How sweet of her."

"Why didn't she kill you?" asks Dan.

Blossom rolls her eyes. "I don't know. Maybe she was, you know, humane?"

"I was just asking."

"Anyways," I say, "we camped out together for a couple of days, then made a plan to attack the group of Careers. You see, the Careers had this big base set up by the cornicopia, where all the supplies was. They had a big pile of food and utilities there, so we figured that if we could somehow destroy it, they would eventually die of starvation or something like that."

I look down. My hand is shaking.

"Rue went to make a distraction while I attacked their camp. She burned about three fires to make smoke, which attracted the Careers, leaving only some scrawny boy to defend their set up. I took my bow and hid out in the bushes, where I saw another girl carefully tiptoe around their big pile and steal some of their supplies. I wondered why she was cautious around the mound, but then it came to me: the Careers' supplies was being guarded by land mines."

Dan's mouth drops open. "Awesome," he says.

"All I had was my bow and some knives to attack with. I noticed a bag of apples sitting on the mound, so I sliced open the bag with my arrows, which made the apples tumbled down onto the land mines, and the entire pile blew to smithereens. But not without temporarily taking away my hearing, of course."

"You sliced open a bag of apples with your arrows?" asks Blossom. "How far away were you?"

"Oh, about a fifty yards," I reply.

I didn't think it was possible, but Dan's jaw dropped even further.

"Your mom was pretty cool, huh kids," says Haymitch.

I blush. "Once that was done, I went looking for Rue. When I get to the forrest, I hear screams coming. I followed them, and found Rue, the last fire unlit, hanging from a net in the tree."

I let out a shaky breath. Peeta takes hold of my hand from under the table. Here comes the hard part. My eyes travel around the room.

"While I was still trying to take her down, a Career from District One snuck up behind us, and I looked back, and he had a spear, and I ducked, and—"

I can't continue. My heart starts picking up pace, my hands are suddenly clammy, and my breathing becomes audible. I'm picturing the scene in my head, of Rue, her soft childish face solemn, a spear sticking out of her stomach. My hands go from shaking to trembling, an I can see anything through my eyes, just the image that's in my head—

"Katniss." Peeta's voice is full of urgency. "Katniss, are you all right?"

"Mom. . .?" I hear Blossom timidly say. I can't stop this from happening to me, I can't control my rapid breathing from becoming rapid gasps.

"I think that's enough for now," says Haymitch. "Kids, why don't we go into Blossom's bedroom and play a board game before I leave?"

I hear footsteps as they subtly tread out of my range. Peeta's chanting a single phrase to me—

"Calm down, Katniss. Everything's alright. Calm down."

My whole body is shaking now, and I have an over whelming feeling to _get out of here. _My legs start spasming, and I'm pushing Peeta away.

"Katniss, stop," he repeats, but his words have no effect on me. I stay like that for at least fifteen minutes. Slowly, my body returns to normal, and I begin bawling my eyes out.

"Come on, Katniss, why don't we go to our bedroom?"

I follow him down the hallway, and slump down onto our bed. I sob for a half our. When I finally can control myself, I softly utter a statement.

"The kids saw me."

"Katniss, Katniss, it's alright," Peeta tells me. But I don't listen. For the rest of the night, tears are slowly running down my cheeks. I snuggle into Peeta's chest, ashamed of exposing my weakness in front of my young and impressionable children.

**Again, any suggestions on how to continue will keep this story going. Feedback of any sort also makes my day:) If you like my writing, go check me out at fictionpress ****under the same username. Thank you!**


	14. I Know

**Another day another chapter! Thanks to some awesome reviews, I got some new ideas to continue the story. As always, thanks for reading!**

The entire next week, we hold off on telling the children our stories. After that dreadful night, I couldn't stand the idea of resuming the tale of Rue's death. Nightmares continued to torment me at night, each one resulting in another panic attack.

My children don't dare bring up the subject, and we eat in silence at the dinner table. Haymitch doesn't join us. Whenever she looks at me, Blossom's eyes are full of sympathy and regret. Dan doesn't meet our gaze and diverts his eyes when we look his way. The children's stories from school aren't as enthusiastically told, and our jokes stay in our mouths. The air in our house is weighted down by an elephant the size of the Capitol.

At the end of the week, Peeta furrows his brow as we settle into bed. "Katniss," he says. "You know that we have to continue."

My eyes look away. "I know."

"Do you feel ready to start it back up after dinner?"

"I guess so."

"Okay." He rubs my back. "Me and Haymitch will do most of the talking. I think the kids can figure out what happens to Rue."

When he mentions her name, my heart noticeably picks up pace.

"Peeta?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"Make sure you tell them about the flowers."

"I will."

That night after we ate, Peeta lets out a sigh. "After a tribute dies," he says out of nowhere, "a helicopter-type thing comes and picks them up. Before it could come to get Rue, your mother made a tribute to her. She collected flowers from the nearby forrest and surrounded her in them, making her fit for a proper burial. It was beautiful. No one else in the Games' history had done that."

"The Gamemakers, of course, didn't like this," says Haymitch. "But the people of the Capitol did."

Dan and Blossom's faces are stoic. They are no longer awestruck and fascinated by the details of our Game, but rather disturbed and disgusted.

"After that," continues Peeta, "the Gamemakers announced that two people, as long as they were from the same district, could win together. This was big news for you mother and I. As soon as she heard the new rules, your mother went to find me. Now, while all this stuff with you her had been going on, I had gotten away from the Careers, but not after being attacked by a boy from District Two. I came out alive, but leg was slashed open."

At this, a look of horror comes across Blossom's face.

"Using my painting skills, I disguised myself as part of some rocks I found on the ground, and I laid there until your mother found me."

"She almost stepped on him," Haymitch inputs.

"Anyways, we found this cave and hid out in there. At this point, your mother and I still weren't "together" like the audience though we were. In order to get sponsors, though, we had to act like it so that we would get people's sympathy. So faked being all lovey-dovey for the audience."

No disgusted reaction from Dan. Surprising.

"After a while, the Gamemakers announced something new. They said that at the cornicopia would be a package for all districts, something that all the pairs desperately need. I told your mother not to go, but she went anyways after knocking me out."

"I got the stuff," I say. As I speak, everyone at the table has a look of surprise on their face. They were not expecting me to talk. "Of course, not without a few battles. One of the Career girls from District Two, the same one that was throwing knives at me in the beginning, attacked and almost killed me. Luckily, I was saved by the boy from Rue's district. He said that he was paying me back.

"I brought back the stuff to our cave. It was a healing lotion for your father's leg. I put it on him, and after one night it was practically healed."

"That must've been some stuff," Blossom says, smiling, trying to lighten the mood. I feel bad for her. I didn't mean to put her through all this awkwardness.

"After I healed," Peeta says, "we knew that we had to fight soon, because there was only us and one other tribute, the boy from District Two, left."

"You forgot to tell them about the berries," says Haymitch.

"Oh yeah, before we went to fight the last boy, you mother hunted in the forrest while I scavenged for some berries. Well, when you mother and I met up, turns out that I had been being picking nightlock, a poisonous berry that kills in minutes. You mother swatted them out of my hands and thanked God that I was still alive."

Peeta smirks at me.

"Traveling a little further in the forrest, we found the a dead girl, the color of the berries around her mouth. We had killed her without knowing it, as she had stolen the berries from us, thinking that they were food."

"Then I took some of the berries with us," I say, "thinking that maybe the boy from District Two would fall for the same trick."

Peeta taps the table with his nails. "We'll finish the rest of the games tomorrow. It's getting late, and you two have school in the morning. Get ready for bed," he says.

Dan yawns loudly. "But we're not tired," he complains.

"Oh, yes you are."

"I should head home now. I'm sure that the geese are missing me," Haymitch says, getting up for the table. The kids give him a hug, and he walks out the door. After saying goodnight to us, Dan and Bloosom then head off to their bedrooms.

"Are you okay?" Peeta asks.

"Yeah," I say. "As good as you can expect me to be.

Leaning across the table, Peeta takes me into his arms.

"It's going to be okay. All of it is past us now."

"I know," I say.

**Reviews are always appreciated and really inspire me to put out new chapters. If you like my writing, go check me out at fiction press under the same username. Thank you!**


	15. The Final Battle

**Thank you so much to my new beta, TrisanaChandler13. Enjoy the chapter!**

Lush branches swayed above me, the greenery rustling in all directions. I am as silent as a doe, my bow laid across my chest. The aroma of Peeta's bakery is long gone. Here is peaceful, here is serene.

Today, to put it into simple terms, is not my day. I woke up early this morning to a nightmare, but the details of it have long since been ousted from my head. Dan is home from school, as he had a fever and could not stop vomiting, to my dismay. He was taking a nap when I last checked on him. While Peeta was cleaning up my son's regurgitation, our breakfast burned and I was resorted to eating black toast. After doing the dishes, I slipped on some water that was spilled on the floor. And, to top it all off, there was absolutely no game in the forrest. Whatsoever.

I hear the crinkling of footsteps behind me, and I jerk my head around to see the owner of them. My son pushes away the last of the branches and enters the clearing. I give him a questioning look as he sits down beside me, his face as pale as the moon.

"Hey Mama," he says, his voice congested.

"Dan, what are you doing out here? You're supposed to be in bed."

He snuggles up to me. "I woke up and I wanted to be with you."

I hug him back, reminiscing of a smaller version of my sweet baby in my arms. We stay like that for a few minutes, enjoying the time alone together. Finally, I motion to get up, keeping him close to me. He resists. "Come on, baby. We need to get you back into the house."

"But I like it out here. Can't I just lay down on the dirt?"

"I'm sorry, but no. You need to go to your bed so that you can rest."

Grudgingly, he gets up. I lead him out of the forrest and into our home, tucking him into bed. He is already half asleep by the time his head hits the pillow. I kiss him on the cheek, and silently exit the room, turning the lights off.

I wander around the house, looking at pictures of my family on the wall, and I see the smiling faces of my husband and children staring back at me. My life, right now, is good. There's no tyrant government making my life hell. My children, so pure and innocent, represent a new beginning of my story, a start of a story that is without the terror of the Games or President Snow. My past is behind me. However, every time I bring up my past with my children, my new story is corrupted and my terrible history sneaks up behind me, tapping me on the shoulder, threatening to make me turn back.

I enter our bedroom and reach down below our bed. I grab the spine of The Book and lay it on the bed, flipping through its pages. I gingerly run my fingers over the paintings, feeling of the texture of my husband's beautiful work. I sit on the bed, marveling at it, wasting the day away.

That night, in honor of Dan, we all eat chicken noodle soup. Peeta made if from scratch, and we all delightfully _slurp___the long strings into our mouths. After we finish eating, Blossom clears the table and settles back into her seat, looking expectantly at the three adults at the table.

"So," Peeta says, looking at her, "I guess its time for the final battle, huh?"

Dan shows a small smile. "Yep."

"So, when we woke up the morning and my leg was healed, we heard a canon shot. The guy that saved your mom was dead. That meant that only us and the boy from district two were left. Very shortly into the day, the sky started turning dark. They were trying to end it quickly."

Blossom cocks an eyebrow. "'They' as in. . ."

"The Gamemakers," Haymitch finishes.

"We went to the cornicopia—"

"More like _were chased by a pack of mutated dogs_ to the cornicopia," I say.

Blossom's eyebrows go up, while Dan's eyes look downwards.

"Yeah. Anyways, we fought with Cato there, on top of the cornicopia, surrounded by mutated dogs. Long story short, we won."

"Now comes the fun part," Haymitch laughs, leaning back in his chair. "Why don't you tell them, Katniss?"

"As soon as the boy from District Two was dead, the Gamemakers announced that the rule of two winners from the same district was now not in effect. Your father and I were supposed to fight to the death."

"Then how are both of you sitting in front of us?" Blossom asks.

"Well, we still had those nightlock berries, remember? So, we took them out, and we made like we were both going to commit suicide at the same time. Right before we put them in our mouths, though, the Gamemakers told us to stop and that there would be two winners of the Hunger Games."

"Wow" is all that comes out of Dan's mouth.

"So, yeah," Peeta says. "And that's how we won our first Hunger Games."

"Wait," Blossom says, "'first?' What do you mean, 'first?'"

"We'll tell you the rest of our story later. Now it's time for homework."

Blossom's mouth parts.

"Yeah, that's right. I know that you watched TV instead of doing math when you got home."

"How do you know that I didn't have any homework tonight?"

"Because I'm your father. I know everything."

Dan snickers. Blossoms scrunches her upper lip, gets up from her seat, and goes to give Haymitch a hug.

"Goodnight, Grandpa," she says, stubbornly, and heads off down the hall.

"Goodnight, sweetheart!" he calls. "Don't let the _math _bugs bite!" He and Dan burst into laughter.

**Reviews are always welcome:) Thank you!**


	16. Yeah Yeah

**Sorry for such a short chapter. This is just kinda filler. I tried to add a little humor in there, let me know what you think!**

The train I take to District Seven is not as fast as the one I rode to the Capitol in after I was chosen as tribute for the first time, but I still arrive in only a matter of hours. When I get to the train station, the large crowd is bustling around, hundreds of people moving to find one another. I join their search, standing on my tiptoes so to raise my head above rest. I glance over the spacious room, finally finding what I'm looking for. Standing amidst the crowd is a still, slim figure, crossing her arms over her chest. I smile to myself, making my way over to her.

"Hey Johanna," I say, reaching out to hug her.

"What's up, Katniss? I didn't think you'd take so long."

"Nothing much. The train was running a bit late."

"How're Blossom and Dan?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Pre-teenagers."

"Hmm." She nods her head. "It's almost twelve-thirty, why don't we go grab some lunch? I know this great sandwich shop just around the corner."

"Sounds great." Grabbing my bags, we weave our way out of the building and head over to the restaurant.

We order up at the front and watch as the workers make our sandwiches. Taking our food to a table, Johanna looks up at me as she sits down.

"Why'd you come?"

_Oh, Johanna, _I think._ Why not allow a little small talk first? _"Well. . ." I trail off. How do I say this?

"Well?"

"I came because I wanted to ask you a favor." This is going to sound ridiculous.

"Yeah?"

She takes a bite of her tall sandwich, the veggies crunching as she chews.

"What do you think about. . . taking a vacation. To District Twelve."

"I thought that's what you were doing, not me."

"I'm only staying here for today and I'm leaving tomorrow. I want you to come and help me with something."

"Help you with what?"

"You see, we're trying to tell Blossom and Dan about Peeta and I's past. Trust me, it's a lot more difficult than it sounds. I was wondering if you could come to District Twelve, and, you know, help me with it. Annie's already coming."

"And why couldn't you ask me this over the phone?"

"I thought it might sound more persuasive in person."

Johanna sets down her sandwich, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"Katniss," she says, "that's a lot to ask. I've got a job and I. . ."

She pauses. I try my best to conjure up my most pleading look.

"Fine. I guess so."

I lean across the table and hug her. "Thank you so much!"

Hesitantly, she moves her arms around me. "Yeah yeah."

xXx

I twist the phone cord around my fingers. "Johanna's coming."

"Really? That's great!" Peeta sounds a little too enthusiastic.

In the background, I hear a sudden _clang _of metal.

"Dan?!" Peeta shouts. "What'd you do?"

A hear a small voice in the background, a voice I know to be my son. "Um. . . Nothing."

I hear the march of footstep. "Ugg," I hear Peeta groan. "Clean it up!"

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Oh, I'm trying to teach Dan how to bake. He just dropped the bowl of batter."

I can't stand to be away from home. I miss them so much.

I giggle. "I'm sorry."

"No, this is nothing. This is our _fifth _batch. He either burned or jacked up all the other ones."

"What do you mean by 'jacked up'?"

"One time, he forgot to put sugar in them. In another, he replaced flour with sugar."

I can't help but burst out laughing. "Sounds like you're having a grand old time."

"Yeah yeah," he replies.

**Thanks for reading! I have one question: how do you think Dan and Blossom will react to Johanna? Please leave a review!**


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